You leave this world of pollution and screaming carsthe poverty and the miserythe lovers and heartbreakers.

how long has it been stranger?

Six? Seven? Eight years?

I don't know...I almost forgot how it was until I saw our pictures together.

They were good old days isn't it?Yet good things really do come to an end.

I guess you will never hear from me those words:"I told you so"

Or the words: "Again??!!!"

It's been good stranger.

Those were times I'd tell my kids aboutor my grandsons and daughters

"Listen I had a friend once, who's good at billiards but bad at being drunk."

Oh how they would laughI can almost see the glitter in their eyes

But then again you're leaving

Let's not say our goodbye'snor our apologies

We have said much for and against each otherthats what friends are and will always be

Letting go is not too painful anyhowWe have the memories to go back to just in case we missed each other

And as you knew me once and before our painful separation:

I always wished you well even if you pained me too muchI always wished you well even if its against my principlesI always wished you well despite my shortcomingsI always wished you well after all thats happened

and now I'm wishing you well again in your departure

Let's not speak thereof anymore of thislest we get drunk in our stupor and we cling to our sins.

*Speech of Former Senator Jovito Salonga, martial law victim; former President of the Philippine Senate; Founder of the Bantayog ng Mga Bayani (Monument of Heroes) and 2007 Recipient of the Ramon Magsaysay Award for Good Governance. *

Commemorating Martial Law : Misa Para sa Mga Bayani

September 21, 2007

Bantayog ng mga Bayani

EDSA , Quezon City , Philippines

I understand that the Bantayog ng mga Bayani is holding this Memorial Service today, September 21, at 7.a.m. to honor the memories of martyrs who gave their lives without seeing the dawn of freedom and the heroes who survived EDSA I, but gave their all for the sake of freedom and democracy .

But allow me to make a correction. In truth , martial law was not imposed on September 21, the date mentioned by Marcos. On the night of September 22, 1972, the news was broadcast that Secretary of Defense Juan Ponce Enrile was ambushed in Wack Wack Subdvision, a few kilometers away from Manila. Enrile was not killed. I was at home, recovering from the extensive injuries I suffered from the Plaza Miranda bombing. Knowing the loyalty of Enrile to Marcos, I doubted the authenticity of the ambush and said so in my writings during the martial law . It was only after the EDSA I, People Power Revoluton , that Enrile admitted it was a fake ambush—evidently to justify the declaration of martial law in the morning of September 23, 1972, when no newspapers arrived and no TV-radio broadcasts were allowed . It was only in the evening of September 23 that Marcos publicly announced the proclamation of martial law, through TV-radio facilities of Roberto S. Benedicto, his closest crony andclassmate in the University of the Philippines.

Marcos falsified the facts, including the repeated assurance that it was not a military take over, the same Constitution, he said, remains enforced . He also falsified the two justifications for the imposition of martial law--- the NPA rebellion in the north and the Muslim insurgency in the south. There was no NPA when Marcos came into power after the November 1965 elections ---but it was his brutal record of repressiveness, brazen corruption and the rigged elections of 1967 and 1969 that led to the formation of the CPP and the NPA. It was Marcos who caused the Muslim massacre in Corregidor in 1967 and led Nur Misuari in Sulu to revolt against Marcos regime. Marcos gave himself away when he said the Old Society (of which he was the leader) was sick , and a " New Society must be born to reform society."

In any case, the Marcos declaration of martial law crushed the hopes of the youth , who saw no future except to underground . Edgar Jopson , Manny Yap and others, like Ninoy Aquino were the martyrs who died without seeing the dawn of freedom. Tañada, Diokno and Roces survived EDSA but Bantayog proclaimed them as heroes for giving their talents, time and resources to topple the Marcos regime.

*Tayo ay nandito ngayon upang alalahanin ang mga tunay na pangyayari at ipagdiwang ang mga tunay na bayani ng ating lahi. Huwag nating payagan na mangyari muli ang ginawa ni Marcos*. Never again should we allow another semblance of Marcos to come again and deceive us and our descendants, in the name of public security and for the sake of reformingsociety . Only a free people can reform society and build our democracy.

Mabuhay tayong lahat at marami pong salamat.

Delivered on the 35th anniversary of Martial Law during a commemorativemass of Claimants 1081 , member organization of Asian Federation AgainstInvoluntary Disappearances in the Philippines.

I just heard the poem sang by Joey Ayala and it reminded me how much I love this poem.Just by listening to it It brought a tear to my eye.So I'm posting it here again as I posted in my last blog. I just don't think my blog could exist without ever paying homage to Rizal.

What I most loved about the poem is the silent call for the Divine.The utmost surrender of pain of saying goodbye to your loved ones.

Perhaps Rizal has written the poem in his most painful times, we never really know but by just reading into It one can deeply sense the fear of death and the delight of dying for a cause.I pray I can write a poem as beautiful as this.

My favorite line is " I’ll go where there are no slaves, hangmen nor oppressors, Where faith doesn’t kill, where the one who reigns is God."

Farewell, beloved Country, treasured region of the sun,Pearl of the sea of the Orient, our lost Eden!To you eagerly I surrender this sad and gloomy life;And were it brighter, fresher, more florid,Even then I’d give it to you, for your sake alone.

In fields of battle, deliriously fighting,Others give you their lives, without doubt, without regret;The place matters not: where there’s cypress, laurel or lily,On a plank or open field, in combat or cruel martyrdom,It’s all the same if the home or country asks.

I die when I see the sky has unfurled its colorsAnd at last after a cloak of darkness announces the day;If you need scarlet to tint your dawn,Shed my blood, pour it as the moment comes,And may it be gilded by a reflection of the heaven’s newly-born light.

My dreams, when scarcely an adolescent,My dreams, when a young man already full of life,Were to see you one day, jewel of the sea of the Orient,Dry those eyes of black, that forehead high,Without frown, without wrinkles, without stains of shame.

If upon my grave one day you see appear,Amidst the dense grass, a simple humble flower,Place it near your lips and my soul you’ll kiss,And on my brow may I feel, under the cold tomb,The gentle blow of your tenderness, the warmth of your breath.

Let the moon see me in a soft and tranquil light,Let the dawn send its fleeting radiance,Let the wind moan with its low murmur,And should a bird descend and rest on my cross,Let it sing its canticle of peace.

Let the burning sun evaporate the rains,And with my clamor behind, towards the sky may they turn pure;Let a friend mourn my early demise,And in the serene afternoons, when someone prays for me,O Country, pray to God also for my rest!

Pray for all the unfortunate ones who died,For all who suffered torments unequaled,For our poor mothers who in their grief and bitterness cry,For orphans and widows, for prisoners in torture,And for yourself pray that your final redemption you’ll see.

And when the cemetery is enveloped in dark night,And there, alone, only those who have gone remain in vigil,Disturb not their rest, nor the mystery,And should you hear chords from a zither or psaltery,It is I, beloved Country, singing to you.

And when my grave, then by all forgotten,has not a cross nor stone to mark its place,Let men plow and with a spade scatter it,And before my ashes return to nothing,May they be the dust that carpets your fields.

Then nothing matters, cast me in oblivion.Your atmosphere, your space and valleys I’ll cross.I will be a vibrant and clear note to your ears,Aroma, light, colors, murmur, moan, and song,Constantly repeating the essence of my faith.

My idolized country, sorrow of my sorrows,Beloved Filipinas, hear my last good-bye.There I leave you all, my parents, my loves.I’ll go where there are no slaves, hangmen nor oppressors,Where faith doesn’t kill, where the one who reigns is God.

Goodbye, dear parents, brother and sisters, fragments of my soul,Childhood friends in the home now lost,Give thanks that I rest from this wearisome day;Goodbye, sweet foreigner, my friend, my joy;Farewell, loved ones, to die is to rest.

Wasn't able to go to the gym last night and opted to ride my bike with Julien at the U.P.I figured I'd rather keep my stamina on the rise for the upcoming sportsfest this saturday and dang I feel bloated.

The ride was smooth except for the "occasional" stops that we did for fixing my helluva V-break...

Went to ride at U.P. balara and muntik nang mabangga (aba rhyming parang rap)thats because we don't friggin know how to fix my darn breaks...

We went home around 10:30 and washed up... was exhausted but was planning to read a book.

Sleep took the best of me and I was eventually in dreamland.

I don't remember what I dreamt about but I believe I did dream about something.

Fleeting memories sucks it's like you're drunk minus the hangover.

I've been planning on writing my dreams... oh yah I remember yes I dreamt that I have a website and a good one I was tinkering on it before I heard the alarm of my cell phone.

When I woke up Juliens' on the CR and I was fixing my things for a basketball game later this afternoon.

Hope I get to even shoot at least 20 points nyahaha =p

I want to eat nachos... *sigh*

I don't get it with band breakups... Last I heard Orange and Lemons is breaking up only to find out that they are actually kicking out one of their bandmate (Clem the one wearing red glasses in the pic) the reason being that he's always late and so and so...

I think he became too mayabang for his own good... I had a friend once in GMA who was their bands close friend. She supported them even before they got really famous.

Well she said Clem was really mayabang... superstar feel daw talaga and even a womanizer... she told me those things back in 2006 and now I'm not really surprised nyahahaha

What's the problem of Luli Arroyo?

She got personal yes calling the person accusing her father an "addict" after the guy just pointed out how his father did the (pardon the term) fingering at him.

She even mentioned his thinning hair.

I don't know if its a natural reaction specially for a daughter of a president to react as such not until I heard and saw her face when she said: "The rule of my mother will continue, no matter what the stakes are" (or so in that line)

Ok so just to give you an idea of what brazilianju-jitsu is all about.Let me summarize it in three words:

TAPYOUOUT

the idea behind brazilian ju-jitsu is that 90% ofthe time a fight goes to the ground, yes it isimportant to fight standing up but there willalways come a time when you have to fall downrather you really are going down and that is whenbrazilian ju-jitsu comes in.

You can break a persons arm or leg or ankle onyour back. and if the people who are teaching youare those people who are really fighting in MixedMartial Arts tournaments like Universal RealityCombat Championships URCC then you really are ingood hands meaning they really are goin to teachyou the nitty gritty parts of everything hehehe

ive trained in many arts and so far the mostpractical of them is brazilian ju-jitsu so ithink its best if you try them yourself if youwant to learn how to defend yourself ^_^

I dreamt that I was running down EDSA with my shoes already wet from the running.I dreamt that Im already seated in my workstation drenched and before I was able to put out my slippers to dry my feet I was jolted up by a knock on the door.

"Floyd di ka ba papasok?" my aunts voice echoed

I looked outside--looked at the dark clouds and the tip-tap of the rain... I thought its been ages since I get to appreciate this mornings rain.

again my aunt called "Oy floyd!" she opened the door and asked again

"Uhhmm malaks ulan eh baka mag half-day na lang ako"

I turned back to my left where I can see the window, I wasn't wearing my glasses but the blueness of the sky and the sadness it provokes hastens me to close my eyes.

I heard the door behind me close and the slight laugh of my aunt "tsk tsk" she sounded

I opened my eyes again... "shit I'm only gonna earn half a months salary if I keep on doing this..." i said to myself

"I'm thinking of it again... money... shit..." when was the last time that I wasn't concerned about leaving the house without anything in my pocket?

I don't remember anymore this foreboding of poverty kept my life in check and I only get to appreciate life's beauty whenever I look at the rain...

I really love the rain... "this time you had me"

I looked at my watch, its round and black made of iron and the one where you wind it at the back and when it alarms it is as if waking up the whole household.

It's 9 am... "shit ulet"

Must get up... must do something... must charge my cell phone... must eat breakfast... must take a bath...

When was the last time I enjoyed doing these things? of waking up each morning as if opening a gift?

I easily forget... maybe that is... But I always do remember the poverty... or the lack of opportunities... even the lack of sleep... whatever I think its the stomach speaking.

Ahh.. I know I'm going to blog this... I said to myself...

I'm going to blog about what happened... and what is happening and what I hope could happen.

This is what happens when you get to read Anne Rice again... hmm.. Servant of the Bones ROCKS!!!!

Im craving for nachos... shiiyyyeeettt!!!!

Its almost 11... have to eat my fill and go to work.. sigh... I'm gonna miss you guys!!!

Let me talk about Jose Maria Sison and his alleged ordering of the murder of his two former comrades (amongst others).

That while the Dutch court cannot find any sufficient evidence on the supposed hand of the current NDF/CPP/NPA "adviser" it has also yet to put into light the developments of other countries in terms of putting to justice revolutionary movements who have maimed, tortured and murdered innocent civilians as well as former allies.

One only has to look at the history of Africa and their successful campaign against criminals with a number of human rights abuses.

The question should be the nature of the organization, the factual as well as coincidental evidences that supports the prosecutions claim.

For one the nature of the CPP-NPA: it is an underground organization where its members do not use their true names, they use aliases instead. They also do not recognize the rule of law such that they have their own form of justice calling it the "peoples court" where most of their proceedings mostly left unchecked from public scrutiny therefore leaving the hapless suspect at the mercy of them "prosecutors/justices/executioners".

Given the above definition of the nature of the organization it is therefore close to impossible to determine the hand of Jose Maria Sison in the murder charges filed against him, as well as his involvement to the massive purges of the 1980's.

This has been a major problem ever since with the Non-Government Organization Peace Advocates for Truth, Justice and Healing (PATH), the NGO is a group of survivors, victims and members of families of the massive purges carried out in the 80's by the CPP-NPA. This massive witch-hunt allegedly victimized at least 3,000 cadres and killed a score of 2,000 suspected infiltrators in the NPA. PATH to this day aims to search and excavate the remains of the victims and bring them back to their families.

This problem lies henceforth in the whole bureaucracy of the CPP-NPA-NDF leadership because there are no available point person to be made accountable unless it is the whole organization and they can always cower at the defense that they are a revolutionary movement at the same time make use of human rights as a form of shield against the military.

Jose Maria Sison and the CPP-NPA has been successful therefore in annihilating anybody under its flags of revolutionary advocacy. The organization can admit to almost anything while it cannot be prosecuted or otherwise be made accountable.

While Jose Maria Sison may be free for now it bids darkly for the organization as its victims remains searching for justice. And as long as the CPP-NPA continues its indiscriminate killings it will eventually loose its credibility as well as its supporters.

Was supposed to clean my room, instead I write...My muses are killing me as if in a dream they taunt me to write things I dare not write of.Why do these things happen when I have something to do?

>_<

my muses tells me to write about what happened to me today, as if it does matter.Why would it matter I asked them, they answered "It is from what you write that determines your future. It is from what you lay down on paper that is forever etched in eternity. There is never coming back when you write your thoughts, perhaps your soul needs every piece of words to be written as if for cleansing."

heniweys aside from just reading a lot of stuff from the internet and dozing to dreamland nonetheless my day was just full of thinking and trying to choose between wanting to go to the gym or not...

Been craving for some sweets the whole day til I was able to fulfill it when I bought a small box of pretzels earlier. Ate it on the way home and went upstairs to try and fix things... well thats the word... TRY hahaha but I think I wasn't even trying the least I just feel so lethargic today...

Stared for at least 15 seconds on a bottle of beer and debated with myself if I'm gonna down it or not but thought otherwise... hmm.. beer... hehehe maybe later but its only one anyway and I'm going to drink it alone...

heniweys thats just it I really have lots of things to do and I've satisfied my muses as well as my curiosity on the supposed myth about eggs and cholesterol and I found out that its just as good if not better for everybody. Meaning Eggs are good for you and not bad as some bad raps being spread around about eggs.

Ever since the time of Rizal our race has been in a constant battle to prove to other nations our propensity to excel.

That even a third world country has the capacity to match the skills of first world nations.

First world countries realize that not only are we able to excel in the english language with the proliferation of hundreds of call centers servicing foreign clients from medical transcriptions to more complex operating system troubleshooting.

That we are not only as good as sending out domestic helpers, nurses and doctors. That we can also excel even in our homeland.

And I am more proud to announce that we were able to prove it by the existence of our own world class SEO practitioners.

First world countries have come to realize that inspite of our shortcomings as a nation and despite our lack of opportunities the filipino can be a world class market for talented individuals and skilled internet marketing practitioners.

Therefore it comes to no avail that there will exist a terrible need for this fount of knowledge that the internet was able to offer our country, by being able to open our windows to the world of opportunities.

Sharing the knowledge

With the advent of the computer and the coming of age of communications technology in our country, internet marketing has become another avenue for career development amongst the younger generation.

Younger and younger people are starting to understand the power of the internet in changing the world.

They have their blogs, news, hobbies, all to be found in the internet. Even Universities have placed a special premium on computers and computer related subjects on this age of internet technology.

Ergo there is a need to share this knowledge to the younger generation as such so they will be able to nurture it and put it to good use.

I firmly believe that we have a responsibility to the younger generation.

That with our help and learning from our mistakes we shall be able to move them forward and beyond and in the process move our country from the recessess of poverty.

Moving forward

I have been told by my professors in college that there have been three waves of Overseas Filipino Workers.

The first being doctors in the 60's, the second being domestic helpers in the 80's and the third being nurses in 2000.

I want to propose another wave, Its a wave of Internet Marketers never having to leave their homeland and enjoying their lives with their families and loved ones.

It is a wave of SEO practitioners handling thousands and millions of websites opening our country for more investors.

A wave of more skilled world class competitors in the Search Engine Battlefield.

And I'd give up forever for SEMCONCause I know that I need it somehowIt's the closest to heaven that I'll ever beSo please let me join it right now

Verse 2

And all I can taste is the momentBut I cannot think of the priceCause sooner or later it's overI just don't want to miss this oh my!

Chorus

And I want Aaron Wall to see meCause I just think that he is the man!When everything seems to be overI just pray that you to give me that chance

Verse 3

And I can't fight the tears that are comingOr the moment of speakers that rockWell for now I can't really afford itSO puh-lease let me join it SIR MAAAARRRRCCCC!!!!

Chorus

And I want Aaron Wall to see meCause I just think that he is the man!When everything seems to be overI just pray that you to give me that chance

Chorus

And I want Aaron Wall to see meCause I just think that he is the man!When everything seems to be overI just pray that you to give me that chance

I just pray that you to give me that chanceI just pray that you to give me that chanceI just pray that you to give me that chanceI just pray that you to give me that chance

--------------------Well this is my entry to the 2-day SEMCON passI really don't know how to convince Sir Marc but call this desperation on my part I really super-duper want to go... (violins in the background). uhhmm how about Ice creams?

There are two levels at which we can analyze the Soldiers' Poem: literal and literary.

I've tried to defend it primarily at the level both CDQ and Upoytao have attacked it: the literal.

But Blackshama's comment made me realize the power of the poem lies not in its literal meaning but its poetic level, which we can access by asking this question:

WHY would they write stuff that can so easily be attacked on the literal level.

I believe upoytao and cdq both express genuine surprise and rise immediately to contradict a claim like the soldier defends freedom of speech more than reporters.

I said earlier it was because the reporters are merely users of what the soldiers do not use and make a living of off, yet they lay down their lives to protect the Constitution from which such freedom flows.

But there is a deeper meaning to it.

They are saying something like this because they think reporters and journalists do not appreciate that very fact, that reporters and jounalists like de quiros attack them, even when they are ready to die for freedom of speech.

So I will rephrase:

It is soldiers who die for what reporters and journalists only make a living at whilst attacking soldiers for obeying the Constitution.

It is in short a PROTEST POEM from dead soldiers painfully but proudly complaining that reporters, politicians and even poets, often do not appreciate their sacrifices or their heroism, for none of these others are themselves at any real risk of having to defend the freedoms they so cherish, unless the soldiers themselves become derelict in their duty.

I think a defense of the constitution necessarily implies a defense of its defenders, especially those whose job it is die for the Constitution if need be.

Reporters, politicians and poets can all LEGALLY avoid the battlefields whilst taking potshots at those taking real sniper shots to the head.

If they tried to live and work like that, they get courtmartialed.

Defense is the soldiers work, attack and collect, defend and collect is what LOTS of reporters do, whilst pretending to be poets.

-----------------

“It’s the soldier -- not the reporter -- who has given us the freedom of the press.

It’s the soldier -- not the poet -- who has given us the freedom of speech.

It’s the soldier -- not the politician -- who ensures that we live freely and peacefully.

It’s the soldier who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is eventually draped by the flag.”

------------

Again let us read on the above, what would one interpret of it? I mean literarily? Perhaps poetically?

DJB interprets it or merely a part of it as

"It is soldiers who die for what reporters and journalists only make a living at whilst attacking soldiers for obeying the Constitution."

As for my poetic interpretation coupled with logic reasoning or whatever one may call that permit me to ask a question however on why would a reporter or a journalist even attack a soldier? Or how does DJB define attack per se?

Did they desecrate them, or blindfolded them and summarilly murder them? the only weapon they can use whether poetically or literarily is the sword of the pen and I really don't see the point of making that statement "attacking soldiers" by DJB.

Correct me if I'm wrong but again does attacking journalists and randomly killing and harrassing activists equitable to "obeying the constitution?"

When does an activist or a journalist in the middle of being tortured attack a soldier? It is this that boggles me for as far as I'm concerned there is no amount of neither literary or literal definition of that ordeal to be suffered under the hands of the "constitution fighter"

Until now there is no anti-torture law, and most of the torture or murdered victims are brought about by the military while carrying their God-given duty of protecting the constitution.

I can even stomach the idea that it is a "PROTEST POEM" by them dead soldiers against reporters, politicians and even poets.

But the question is who are the soldiers protesting against? The reporters who write because they are being indiscriminately murdered and the government can't give them the protection they want?

And where did the idea of "reporters, politicians and even poets, often do not appreciate their sacrifices or their heroism, for none of these others are themselves at any real risk of having to defend the freedoms they so cherish, unless the soldiers themselves become derelict in their duty." came from?

Is being critical of a system that is corrupt and murderous meant not being able to appreciate their heroism?

Now on the question of "WHY would they write stuff that can so easily be attacked on the literal level."

By just being able to digest de-constructively a statement in the literal sense does not merit giving that option that perhaps they wrote it in the poetic level.

That is where I honestly at a loss for DJB's logic.

For all we know they wrote it as literal, only they could know for sure. It is like trying to interpret the bible and opening up more questions than answers.

Their statement as I see it can also be interpreted as being not open to attacks. Perhaps they wrote it as it is as they see fit and as arrogant as most of them are towards the people they "matter-of-factly" torture and dispose of any chance they get.

Therefore the whole argument of DJB all boils down to personal opinion and interpretation and if DJB feels that it should be interpreted as such then it should be interpreted as such. he left no room for any discussion as could be compared to a decree of a 13th century Roman Catholic Pope.

Please don't get me wrong I admire them and their valor but please let us afford them the righteousness of their deaths by not using them as a smokescreen for the misdeeds of their organization.

I know for a fact that they are just following orders and whatever that may be may it be good or bad as long as it comes from the top that's how it usually works isn't it?